Reasons
by encore28
Summary: A hero lost; a hero found.


**Title**: Reasons  
**Author**: Erin  
**Prompt**: Season 8, PG-13, Metropolis' Main Street: Phonebooth  
**Spoilers**: All spoilers, up to what we have for season 9 so far  
**Author's Notes:** This was written for DI 2009 Summer Ficstravaganza, for Interstellar. It was late.

It's based primarily on season 9 spoilers, although I deviate a tad. I think…

Not betaed. Forgive me.

Enjoy!

~*~

It had taken him much too long to reach this point.

When he had first declared himself dead, his only thought was of redemption. The disaster of the previous few days had been a sign; humanity was his mission, not his family. He'd known since he was sixteen that he didn't belong, and since he was eighteen that he couldn't pretend for the rest of his life. So, he'd stop running. No one else was going to for his delusions.

This however had been easier said than done. He wasn't human, but he had been raised as one. There were… habits to break. After his surprisingly brief period in the Fortress learning about his people, he'd gone out to see what good he could do in the world. It had taken him a month to stop spending his mornings checking on those of his former life. It had taken two to stop spending every evening skulking around Metropolis, remembering his mistakes.

Now, it had been three months since he'd ruined his former friends' lives, and he'd gotten a good taste of the kind of future he faced. He'd seen where he was going, and had learned to see his past as what it was – not as an incomparable loss, but borrowed time that he hadn't given back in time to prevent casualties. He was ready.

_Well_, he thought, as he took in the sight before him, _almost_.

He gave in to the desire to walk towards the booth, letting the few distinct images he had of her there flow over him. He didn't know how, above all things, it had come to represent her in his eyes, especially given how many other memories he had of her, but there was no doubting the connection.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the booth and replayed their first conversation, remembering the feeling in his chest as he watched her smile into the phone. Remembered how it felt like he found the answer to a question he didn't even know he'd asked. Right then, the realization hit him like a shot.

He felt nothing.

It was the last place in the city that, when he patrolled, he still couldn't resist returning to; the last place he'd needed to rid himself of. And now, he felt _absolutely nothing_.

Now, he was ready to save her.

~*~

"Wait a second. I'm _where_?" Lois stared incredulously at the man in front of her, whose dopey grin still didn't fade. She wished she could smack him on the head and tell him to focus; that she had questions that needed his full attention. Hell, in any other situation she'd have already done it. But, here and now, there were clearly a few things to sort out first.

Starting with why Metropolis suddenly resembled the set of a bad 80s end-of-the-world flick.

"2030. Specifically, the old Met U library." She looked around, hardly recognizing the expansive room. It looked like it had been turned into a shelter of some kind; cots were set up in every corner of the room, and books had been long replaced with personal effects, blankets making some into makeshift storage spaces. At first glance, it looked like a temporary arrangement; one that no one could stand for long. But the personal touches and ease with which the large group of people had their personal space invaded belied this assumption.

She'd be shocked by the scene, if she hadn't had the displeasure of seeing the dilapidated remains of her treasured city beforehand.

Not knowing how else to react, she let out a disbelieving laugh, "I can't decide what to ask first: what the hell happened, how the hell did I get here, or what the hell is with the beard? Seriously Smallville, did they outlaw razors and mirrors? Because otherwise, there's no excuse." She'd said it to inject a little levity into the situation; to lighten the heavy air that surrounded them. By the looks of the downright infectious grin that spread over his face, she had been successful. That smile, accompanied by the awestruck look he was giving her, made her almost forget that she'd landed somewhere resembling hell. God, had he never looked at her like that before?

She was drawn from her reverie when he brought his hand to his chin, fondling his beard. "I kind of like it." She scoffed and rolled her eyes at this, which widened his smile, even more. It dimmed considerably almost immediately after, though, as he moved on to her other questions. "I'm pretty sure I know how you got here," he said, his gaze slipping to her hand. She followed it, reminded of the ring that now sit snugly on her finger, "but I don't know why just yet. As for everything else…" he looked around him, a palatable sadness coming over him. "Well, a lot has happened. At first, there were good things, but," he sighed. "It's been twenty years. There was plenty of time for it to change for the worse."

She cocked her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she examined him. "You wouldn't know it looking at you, though, would you Smallville? Besides the obvious," she gazed at the beard with disgust, "you don't look like you've changed at all. Definitely not twenty years older."

His smile returned, but was much more introspective than it had been previously. "I had almost forgotten that you didn't know." He was quiet for a moment, his gaze low and at his hands. After a moment, though, they made their way back to her face, a certain resolve taking residence in his features. "There's a lot I have to tell you, if we're going to fix this."

She didn't have to ask what he was talking about. Clark's hero complex was, after his eyes, his most prominent feature. She hadn't seen much of this world, but she knew that if the rest of it was half as bad as the few streets of Metropolis she'd seen on the way here, then "devastating" wouldn't even cover it. Not being able to help had to be killing him. But here she was, having travelled through time and apparently carrying with her what she needed to do it again. There was no question as to what their actions would be.

Trying to keep it light while she could, she said, "Are you going to  
start with where exactly you found your fountain of youth?"

He looked at her seriously, cutting right to the chase. "Lois, I'm the Red-Blue Blur."

She stared at him for a moment, her brain processing and re-processing that information. Before she could formulate a reply – or a coherent thought at all, for that matter – he was off again.

"I came up with the persona as a way to hide my identity from the public and still save lives. I knew the second anyone found out who I was they'd start digging into my past, and was afraid they'd stumble upon my… origins."

"And what exactly _are_ your origins, Clark?" Lois asked, managing to find her voice, even if her tone was just a step above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, nervous about someone else's reaction to for the first time since he was a teenager. "Lois, I wasn't affected the meteor rocks. I brought them with me. I'm from another planet."

They stared at each other for a long time, Clark afraid to go on without a reaction, and Lois not quite ready to give one. Finally, just as he was about to give her a few minutes to herself, she stood up, saying, "Let's go for a walk."

"What? Lois, it's dangerous out there. A lot has changed"

"I don't care, Smallville. You obviously have a lot to tell me, and I've gotta say I don't know if, after everything else today, I have the strength to hear it sitting in a room full of people . Besides," she said, heading towards the door, "I need to know what we're dealing with."

He stood still for a second, unable to help remembering a time when this was a regular occurrence. Experience told him that this was a bad idea; that only badness could come out of walking the streets at a time like this, but habit that he thought he'd long ago unlearned had him following her out into the night.

~*~

His first step had been Oliver's penthouse in Star City. No one had seen the billionaire since right after the incident – at least, no one that was aware of who he was – and all activity to his accounts had ceased. He'd dropped off the face of the earth, and except for a few sporadic phone calls to his assistant wherein he mentioned San Juan, Prague, and Reykjavik, there was no record of him anywhere. His plan had been to start at all Queen Properties and holdings, and then, if nothing turned up, to do a quick scan of places he'd been known to frequent. As it turned out, Oliver was much better at hiding in plain sight than even he would have guessed.

He told himself he checked the Clocktower last simply because it was unlikely that Oliver would turn up there so soon after the incident, but even so, he wasn't delusional enough to believe he had let go as thoroughly as he wished. He had planned to simply do a quick scan outside of the building before continuing his patrol for the night, but the outline of a figure slumped in an armchair in the dark apartment caused him to walk in.

"Well, if it isn't the jackass formally known as Clark Kent."

The voice's slurred words were surprisingly clear as Clark walked to stand in front of the chair in question. "Oliver."

"You found me! I'm flattered." He stood up shakily out of the chair, managed to regain his balance, and walked with surprising poise to the wet bar on one side of the room. "I heard that no one has seen neither hide nor hair of you since your very dramatic exit from human civilization."

"I need your help." He watched as Oliver finished pouring his drink and made his way back to his chair, guiding himself expertly around a stool that stood in his path.

He knew that it was impossible for Ollie to have seen him watching him in the smothering darkness of the apartment, but the billionaire seemed sense his eyes on him, for he replied jollily, "That one got me a few times at first, but practice makes perfect." He flopped into his chair and held his drink in the general vicinity of the voice he'd just heard. "Ooh. So the Dark Avenger needs my help. I hear that's a big deal." He took a thoughtful sip, before replying, "Sooo. What'dya need? I'd offer to help you with your costume, but I'm out of the hero biz. Plus I don't know if I could in good conscience design something with that much black. It bums people out."  
There was no emotion in his voice as he replied, "I need to find Lois. I've had no luck on my own, and don't have the resources you do. I think that with if we work together—"

The name alone seemed to sober Oliver up, "Oh, so _now_ you care where she is." He sat up straighter in his chair, letting the glass fall heavily onto the glass end table beside him. "That's a good limitus, thanks – a dead friend's not quite enough, and neither is the girl he loves going missing, until you slap a few months it. If her father's a few weeks away from having her declared dead, then stick around – you might be just in time to see Clark Kent give a shit."

He struggled to keep the emotion he unwillingly felt under the surface as he gritted out, "Clark Kent doesn't exist anymore. "

Oliver stood up, grabbing his glass as he went. "So I've heard! But I think the real question is _why_, don't you, Clark? Now I'm no psychologist, but I'd have to say it's a mix of years of grossly misplaced guilt, with just a few abandonment issues, and a whole lot of cowardice. You say you're suddenly not human because you've disconnected yourself from your emotions? Oh please, Clark, that reaction is all human – most of us just don't have a ready-made excuse like you do when we decide it'd be much easier to disconnect than feel pain. So instead, we choose booze." He sent a "cheers" Clark's way, before taking a good sized sip to emphasize.

"So you see, Clark, you and I are a lot alike. Only this is actually my fault, and I'm only destroying my liver, while you're destroying your life. "

"This isn't a game, Oliver. If you won't help me find Lois, tell me, so that I can keep looking for her on my own."

"You know what, you ass? I'm _not_ going to help you. Because if you had been around for the past three months, you'd know that I've had investigators looking for any trace of her since she went missing, and that your mom has been calling in favors all over Congress trying to find someone to find Lois.

"You're not the only one who cares, Clark, and if I thought you'd actually accomplish anything, I'd help you, but I know your form of grieving all too well. Hell, if I didn't know that I'm about as useful as – well, you, right now, I'd be out looking for her right alongside everyone else."

Clark was silent for a moment, unable to leave Oliver standing there. For some reason, he needed him to understand. "I'm not grieving. I'm taking responsibility for my actions, finally. None of this would have happened if not for me."

Oliver snorted, turning his attention from the cityscape that had captured his focus. "Taking responsibility for your actions? What actions, Clark? I killed Lex, Clark. I killed him, and was willing to do the same to Davis. And it was my arrow that kept you away from us, or are you forgetting? And Chloe – well – let's just say she's not any better than I am." His tone softened. "The only one thinking that night, was you. Out of all of us so-called Heroes, the only one that didn't royally f**k things up that night, was you. Don't get me wrong – you're still an idiot, and you made mistakes, but Jimmy isn't dead because of you. That's all on me."

A silence slipped over the room, as Clark watched Oliver and Oliver watched the night. Finally, the archer spoke, "I see you, you know." At Clark's questioning look, he continued, "At the phone booth. You're there almost every night. You have to know that there's an entire memorial at both her and Jimmy's desks in the Planet. Why the booth, Clark? The Blur stuff – she doesn't even know you're you then. Why the booth?"

Clark said nothing, walking over to the apartment's elevator. No dramatics. Not tonight. "I will find her, Oliver. With or without your help."

The billionaire just sighed, "As long as someone does."

~*~

To say she was overwhelmed was an understatement.

But Lois was nothing if not good at stress management. So, as Clark finished telling her of his origins and his life as the Blur, moving into a frustratingly vague version of events leading up until then, she processed.

Finally, as he led her through the back streets and through alleyways, around violent confrontations and what looked like armed mercenaries, she spoke. "What happened here, Clark?"

He sighed, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he held her hand tightly. "Fear. The world tried to unite against a common enemy, but all that happened was a power struggle, followed by an arms race, followed by wars. Things just… escalated. Faster than anything I've ever seen."

"Who was the common enemy?" She was sure she knew the answer before she asked it, but was hoping she was wrong.

"Me." He replied morosely but unsurprisingly. "I made a stupid decision back then. Right after you… disappeared. I thought I could help people more by denouncing my humanity, but all it did was generate distrust—"

"I could have told you that, genius." The situation wasn't light, but she couldn't resist the dig. "People don't need a faceless savior, especially not one with the powers of a God. They need a symbol. Hope."

Clark nodded. "I learned that too late. I lived for years trying not to feel anything, before I realized that caring is what – "

"—made you a hero." She finished for him, catching his eye.

He smiled, nodding again. "After awhile, some people learned that they could trust me. I still try to help when I can, but there are just as many who blame me for what happened. And really, they're right."

"Clark—"

"Don't, Lois. You know it was. But this is why we have to send you back, knowing what you know."

"Why's that?"

He held her hand tighter as the old Metropolis National Bank building came into view. Walking faster and keeping his focus ahead, but letting a genuine smile spread over his face – officially making this day the most he'd smiled in twenty years – he said, "Because even back then, when I had no idea what I was feeling for you meant, you were my hope."

Not even trying to fight the warmth she felt at that statement, Lois replied, "Wow, Smallville, it only took you twenty years to get that smooth?"

Clark just smiled and shook his head, before stopping her before a wandering mercenary – under strict orders to shoot to kill – made his way past them.

Deciding to speed things up a little, Clark pulled her tightly to him. "Hold on."

Before she knew it, she was in what looked like a sectioned-off part of the basement of the building they were just moments before heading towards.

"Just for future reference, 'hold on' is not a good enough warning for whatever the hell that just was." Lois said, leaning up against the wall heavily.

"That was superspeed." Clark replied, "And what exactly should I have said, 'Hold on tight Lois, we're about to be moving faster than a bullet train, and if I drop you you'll become a road pancake?' I think that's a little too much information, don't you?"

Lois glared at him, "A little warning about the headrush would have been nice, smartass." She looked around the room she found herself in, ignoring the grin that had found its way on his face once again. How the man could smile so much in a post-apocalyptic wasteland was beyond her. 

_It's you. He hasn't seen you in twenty years – he's missed you_. All annoyance she felt towards him fell away at that though. Not wanting to face him just yet, she continued her inspection of her surroundings. It was a makeshift bedroom, she could tell, once she stopped concentrating on her thoughts and actually paid attention to what she was seeing. There wasn't much to it. There was a small, worn loveseat in one corner, and an old kitchen chair next to it. There were also few blankets on a thin mattress in one corner that served as his bed. She couldn't help notice that even now, it was neatly made, just like his mother had taught him. Turning around to where he stood, watching her amusedly, "Are those hospital corners?" She asked him incredulously. She didn't even know how he managed that.

He shrugged sheepishly in response. "Old habits.

Leaning next to him on the wall, she asked, "So this is where you're staying? I thought you lived at the Met U library with the others?"

He shook his head. "Makes hit harder to sneak out. You know, there was a time when I didn't mind to show my face. Now it's just like when I first started. If I'm anything but a blur…"

"You're dead." She said, softly. Clearing her throat, she switched topics a bit, "Why'd you take me there, then, when you first found me?"

"Being anywhere by yourself is dangerous these days. People didn't move into communities like that one because they were forced to.

They did it because it was safer. It's less likely that you'd be attacked in your sleep."

Noticing the mood rapidly taking him over – one, she was guessing, that was the norm for him these days – she took his hand and turned to face him. "We're going to fix this Clark."

"Tomorrow," he said, quietly, "in the morning. Please? I've missed you, I just—"

Leaning up, she cupped her hands around his face, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I know."

Looking down, he grabbed her wrists and gently pulled her hand from his face. "I'm not him, Lois."

"Yes, you are," She said, moving one hand to cup the back of his neck. "There's no way you could ever be anyone else." She kissed him again, and this time, he didn't stop her.

The gentleness of it was quickly traded for something more desperate; more intense. It wasn't long before his shirt was off and onto the floor, and even less time before hers joined it. His lips made their way to her neck and they moved as one back to the makeshift bed, knowing that these moments had to count, because tomorrow, they would be replaced in the pages of time.

~*~

If there was one thing he had learned about himself in the time he'd separated himself from humanity, it was that he would never be able to rid himself from his emotions.

He'd grown up in a loving, open family, where 'I love you's were passes as easily as 'hello's, and where there was never any doubt about their feelings for one another. They love freely and wholly, putting their whole hearts into everything they did.

This way of thinking followed Clark throughout his whole life. It was why he always felt the need to do more with his powers – everyone deserved a chance at life, at love. He was your friend when no one else was; whether you wanted it or not. His emotions –the fuel of his desire to save everyone—became who he was.

And they were, ultimately, the reason for his failure as the world's savior.

For this reason, he knew, although he was Kal-El of Krypton, he had still been raised as Clark Kent, and as such, his emotions were engrained into every corner of his being.

Although he could suppress these emotions, as Oliver had proven, there was no guarantee they could stay buried, especially if they had any real strength.

This is why, while Clark Kent wanted to –_needed_ to – find Lois Lane as quickly as he could, Kal-El knew that the moment he did, his mission would once again be a failure.

~*~

"Where are we going, exactly?" Lois said, following Clark's lead as he made his way to the streets of what used to be Metropolis.

"There's one place you need to see before you go." He said. He had woken her early that morning, knowing that they had to get an early start to avoid any hostiles that day. The smiles on their faces were visible even in the darkness of the basement; no matter what happened now, she knew what he felt for her. He only hoped she'd get the chance to do the same.

As they made their way out of the last alleyway and onto the surprisingly deserted street, she finally saw what it was he had wanted her to see.

"It's still here?" She said, walking towards the glass phone booth, now obviously worse for wear. The glass was cracked and splintering in several places, and the phone no longer had a receiver.

But it was still there.

He nodded, smiling. "This where I knew."

She looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"You were here, and I was standing up there." He pointed up towards a section of buildings, one of which still stood. "I was expecting you to bombard me with questions, to beg for an interview, for anything, I thought. But I should have known, right?" He smiled at her gently, placing his hand on her cheek. "You always manage to surprise me. Because not only do you say you don't want the story, the first and only question you ask me is, 'What do you need?' All you'd ever seen of me was a streak across a camera screen, and you still knew me."

She smiled softly up at him. "You take care of everyone else without asking for anything in return. I just thought you might need someone to take care of you."

Clark nodded back at her, "I did. And I got her." He kissed her softly, squeezing her hand in his. "Thank you, Lois. No matter how much of an idiot I manage to be, don't forget that I love you, okay?" She nodded, her watery eyes matching his.

Taking the hand that held the Legion ring, he said, "Concentrate on home, just a little bit after you left. Picture Metropolis as it was then." Kissing her hand, he stepped a bit away from her and watched.

She closed her eyes and did as she was told, opening her eyes just in time to see a purple light streak across her line of vision.

_I love you, too. Always._

~*~

Standing up from the uncomfortable plastic seat, Clark stretched and made his way down the hallway. He still couldn't believe he'd found her.

When he'd brought her in, the doctor had said the trauma from the crash had given her a moderate concussion, and, because of her history, they were going to be monitoring her carefully for the night.

Thankfully the chaos of the train crash had left the ER swamped, so they didn't notice his slipping by, way past visiting hours.

As he walked into the room, he watched as she flipped through the channels, trying to keep from nodding off.

Forgetting himself for a moment, he said, "_The Love Boat_? I thought you were trying _not_ to fall asleep."

She smiled tiredly, catching him as he came in. "Hey, Smallville. So are you going for Neo, or are you more of a Laurence Fishburn kind of guy?"

He looked down, noticing he still had on his trenchcoat, and remembered himself. "I just wanted to check on you. How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm a concussion away from reliving my diaper days." She noticed the stoic look on his face, and tried to get him to meet her gaze. "Smallville? Is there still a personality underneath all of that leather, or am I going to have to go back to keeping myself awake?"

"I'm sorry Lois, it's just – a lot has happened since you've been gone."

Lois' face dropped, and she nodded sadly, her expression glum. "I talked to Chloe. I don't even really know what to say to her. If I'd have been here – "

"Don't, Lois. You had nothing to do with what happened to Jimmy. You can't blame yourself."

"Why not?" She asked him, looking him directly in the face.

His eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that. "What?"

"Why can't I blame myself? Lord knows you are. At least I know my guilt is irrational." She was quiet for a moment before getting to the point. "Chloe says that no one's really seen you since Jimmy died. "

He was quiet, so she continued. "Clark, you can't blame yourself for this. Davis was clearly unstable; we'd known that for awhile. You didn't have anything to do with it."

"Lois, there were things I did that you don't know about. I kn—"

"Did you run Jimmy through?"

He knew where this was going. "No, but—"

"Did you hand Davis the bar and tell him to go for it?"

He rolled his eyes, frustrated that she wasn't getting it. "No, Lois, but—"

"Then you had nothing to do with it." She sat back into the bed, satisfied with her conclusion. "If you're going to feel guilty, at least know when it's irrational. And don't let it consume you like this. Black's really not your color."

He chuckled at that, watching her watch tv for awhile. He needed to go back out on patrol, soon, but he didn't want her to accidentally fall asleep. He started to say something, when she took care of it for him.

"I really missed a lot, huh?" He was quiet, not knowing what to say to that, when she asked, "Have you heard from the Red-Blue Blur at all? I was supposed to meet with him, and now I don't even know if he's still alive."

"No, no one's heard from him." There was no use giving her false hope, when he knew that the RBB was as good as dead.

She nodded solemnly. "I'll find him." Her declaration was so simple, so resolved, he didn't have the heart to say anything to discourage her.

They were halfway through a riveting episode of_ The Beverly Hillbillies_ when the night nurse came in.

"Sir, visiting hours ended six hours ago. You're going have to leave. Come back at 8 tomorrow."

Clark nodded, standing up, but even has he was heard himself say,

"I was just trying to help keep her awake."

"We've got that covered." He could see the look on Lois' face at that, one that clearly said _Like hell you have_, and laughed. The nurse's face turned sour. "Okay, I'm serious now. Out."

Lois laid a hand on her arm, stopping her from pushing Clark out of the door. "Can just give us just a couple of minutes? I just need to tell him one thing."

The nurse rolled her eyes and nodded, "Two minutes. After that I'm getting security."

They both nodded obediently.

Once she had left, Lois turned to Clark. "Promise me you're going to try not to feel guilty for Jimmy's death. For that matter, try to forgive yourself for the hole in the ozone, too. Also, the extinction of the dinosaurs wasn't directly your fault, but—"

"Okay, I get it." He said, holding his hands up in surrender. "But only if you promise to take care for yourself, and get some rest for a few days before you jump back into work."

"…"

"Lois!"

"One day."

"Two."

"One day, and I'll come in late on the second."

Seeing the look of resolve on her face, he groaned. "Fine." Shaking on it, Lois smiled in victory.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

"Ms. Lane, I don't hear you guest leaving!" They both heard from down the hall.

"Take care of yourself, okay, Lois?" He said, smiling pleadingly at her."

She rolled her eyes. "I promised, didn't I?"

~*~

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Lois broke her promise.

Standing on the deserted street in front of the phone booth, she sighed in irritation. Why was she doing this? The Blur didn't even know she was there, and she had no idea how strong his hearing was.

Well, they would see, wouldn't they?

"Mr. – Um – Blur? I don't know if you can hear me, but this is Lois Lane. I know I stood you up for our meeting, and I know the last thing you probably want is dealing with more reporters, but… I just want to know if you're alright. Just… give me a sign, or something? Please?"

Her voice echoed down the empty road.

"I promise you can trust me!" She said somewhat pleadingly.

Sighing deeply, she stood in the empty street for what seemed like hours, before turning to find another cab to get her back to the hospital before they realized she wasn't there.

Halfway down the street, the phone rang.

Practically running back to the phone, Lois had it up and to her ear by the second ring.

"Welcome Back, Ms. Lane."

He was convinced that half of the city could see the smile that crossed her face. "It's about time!"

**~End~**

_PS Please forgive me for the concussion. I was trying to stick somewhat to the Spoilers, and to do that, she had to go without memory somehow. I promise, I don't like it anymore than you do._


End file.
